To Lose Your Way To Memory Lane
by RoughBuncher
Summary: When the paths of a woman suffering psychological trauma and an amnesiac special operations elite cross, surely only chaos can ensue. Especially since this proverbial crossroads exists on a planet wrecked by apocalypse and filled with both criminals and cannibals.
1. When Paths Meet

-AN

This is the first fanfic that I have posted in the public domain so any constructive criticism would be helpful. This fiction is rated M for violence, references to but not depictions of cannibalism and coarse language. Read, review and enjoy!

23/03/13

Changed a few things around for realism per suggestion of PastLogan, as well as editing a few other things.

28/03/13

I've performed multiple changes to make this chapter flow better, some dialogue has also been replaced and some added but all vital information is the same as before.

Disclaimer, I do not profit from this work of fiction and do not own any rights whatsoever to Halo or the Halo universe, otherwise I'd be minted.

* * *

The macabre act of cannibalism is one that is rarely partaken in. However, in times of true desperation when society breaks down completely it becomes all too common. On one particular planet, Pyson IV, it would be true to say that all law, government and civilisation has been destroyed. Shattered by an instantaneous and cataclysmic event of an unknown source, one the remaining inhabitants of the planet refer to simply as the Event. But, from the ashes of one of Pyson's colossal cities, built upon a large island, a sub government of sorts has imposed itself. A tyrannical circle of persuasive, powerful and ruthless criminals.

These men and women hold most of the cards in this city but most importantly the card representing the essential "food". This necessity that many of us take for granted is sparse in a place ruined by apocalypse, covered by concrete and surrounded by empty waters, long left desolate by pollution. And far from opening their hearts with kind sharing and organised rationing, the aforementioned individuals dug into the remaining food with gluttony while their subjects were forced to "make good use of any cadavers they may find".

Those who were repulsed by this concept (most that is) would often abstain from eating for long periods of time as a result, lending to them the name "skinnies" due to the effect this would have on their bodies. Others who were especially repulsed would either forfeit their lives or attempt to escape the dominion of their tormentors and hide in the city borders. Most of these attempts failed. Nonetheless, any who did manage to live outside the reach of the circle would be dubbed "freelancers".

One woman, a Rachel Taylor, had managed to remain a freelancer ever since the Event. But soon, for better or for worse, she will find her already tenuously balanced life thrown into further chaos...

* * *

Taylor was presently walking down a long alleyway, a tall, lean figure moving along its middle. Her shoulder length black hair fanned out over the dark coloured trench coat she wore, glistening slightly with the light from Pyson IV's aged and cold but large sun. Knee high engineer boots covered in buckles along their fronts produced a muffled thump with each step she took.

_I fucking despise alleys. _Were her silent thoughts as she proceeded.

Suddenly, for no outwardly apparent reason, Rachel paused her quiet gait. She cocked her head to the right, hair parting and exposing tanned brown skin to the sunlight. Her attention was focused towards a door set in a towering concrete building flanking the alleyway.

A faint sound emanated from within, similar to a baby's cry.

Rachel furrowed her brow. _Reeks of a skinny trap; that's exactly why I hate alleys._ Placing paramount importance on safety she decided to back up, trotting along the opposite side from the sound source. Moments later a loud crash resounded from a portal directly adjacent to her. The door flew open, colliding with the woman's shoulder and knocking her into a forced roll away from it. Recovering from her fall she staggered to her feet, heart pounding, to witness three disheveled men exiting the opening at a pace. None within 5 inches of her height, two holding knives with a menacing sheen to them, all baring yellowed teeth in feral snarls and shouting battle cries as they charged.

The first attempted to stab Taylor in the gut moments after she had finished getting up. This was evidently a poor decision as she sidestepped the blade arm, wrapping her own around it and tearing the knife out of his grip. She easily tripped him up with a kick while his body was in a precarious extended position.

Rachel turned, raising the knife in a counterstrike to the second man who had started to swing his in a wide slash. The blade caught his forearm half way, eliciting a shriek of pain from him that was soon stifled as Taylor stepped in close, elbowed his jaw with a grunt and dished out a heavy heel kick to the diaphragm.

_Oooohh! That wall must have dealt double digits to his head.  
_

While her leg was still raised the man on the floor regained his wits and tackled the remaining leg. She lost her balance, releasing a hard exhale as she landed back to back and opposite ways around on top of him. An advantageous position for her as she reacted faster than the man, ramming the still held-onto knife into the back of his neck.

_He's finished. Now for the final fuc-_

"Stop right there princess."

_Shit._

In the time it had taken Rachel to reorient herself from her fall, the third man had retrieved the weapon that his second, now unconscious, comrade had been holding. He wasted no time in pressing it against the tall woman's neck and backing her against a wall. She glared down at him and muttered without hesitation "Prick."

"Shut-up and drop the knife!" was the Prick's fast talking and curt response. Rachel could not but comply; her blade clattering as it hit the floor. "Eyeballs, get the hell over here!" he shouted, moving his head slightly away from his captive but not daring to shift his gaze.

Soon after his call the man so named "Eyeballs" ran out of the door the baby's voice had originated from.

"Wow! What happened dude, she backed up just like in the plan." The trap setting skinny was understandably surprised at the scene before him.

"Oh you know, we came out shared a cupper and got married. Look around you what do you think happened? She stabbed up Wack and Joe!"

"Alright, alright. But what now? Do we take her ali-" Something cut Eyeballs off and moments later he yelped.

All throughout their exchange the Prick had managed to retain eye contact as had Rachel; but at this point, he made the mistake of glancing back at his acquaintance, and the carefully observing woman took full advantage. She stuck her index and middle finger up at him and then jabbed both into his mottled blue eyes, simultaneously managing to force back his arm before any more than cosmetic damage was suffered by her neck. The Prick screamed like a man in agony as he stumbled back, dropping his own weapon.

Taylor took two long strides, grabbing the man's knife from the floor and closing the distance between them. On the third stride she rammed her knee up between his legs and into the wall behind him.

"Ahhhhhhhhhh!" The Prick now screamed more like a little girl.

"Listen you fuck up," Rachel started, her emerald green eyes almost glowing with intensity "you own your mistakes. Now you're going to a place of eternal arse kicking from every man, woman and child whose corpse you've defiled to pay for them." Speaking a full sentence (or two) for the first time revealed that Rachel was possessed of a thick London accent of both rough and deep tone.

"You psychotic bitch!" was the indignant reply.

"That's me." Taylor returned morbidly before stabbing into the Prick's heart with force. He was a prick no more...

It may well also be that he had a prick no more; but whether this is the case or not is purely conjecture.

Remembering Eyeballs' yelp, she removed the weapon and dropped the corpse unceremoniously to the floor. Turning abruptly while readying to charge blade first at any threat that may present itself, she declared "Fuck me!" For before her, above the slumped body of Eyeballs, was a colossal eight and half foot tall, deep brown scaled elite clad in sinister black armor plating, the pointed shoulder pauldrons exhibiting a glint around the edges. His arms were folded behind him in parade rest, his expression neutral as he glanced between the cutting implement in Rachel's hand and her face. "If you are willing to lower that for a few moments, I would appreciate a short talk." The elite's voice was incredibly deep, leaked masculinity and rang with stunning clarity.

Rachel was stunned for an instant. Blinking, she looked around at the carnage she'd caused in bewilderment, arms held low and far apart in an almost questioning manner. She linked her green eyes with his black ones and ventured "You serious?"


	2. An Explanation and A Proposal

24/03/13 Update: removed some of the many unnecessary repetitions of the words 'with' and 'in', also edited a couple of other things.

06/05/13 Update: removed some more word repetitions and fixed some mispunctuated sentences.

* * *

It had been a prevalent part of Rachel's life that she was able to perfectly recall almost every event that transpired during it. Eidetic memory, a blessing at times but in the woman's experience more often a curse.

However, even with such an ability Rachel could not recall any situation that was even analogous to the one she found herself in now, let alone a situation similar. Such aliens as the one presently in front of her were referred to as elites in all the news feeds from before the Event and, as far as she was aware, the hulking creatures were universally hostile. Yet this one had clearly witnessed her assaulting members of her own kind and wanted to talk?

"You are serious." Rachel turned her head slightly, gazing at the elite sideways. She looked him, or at least she thought it was a him but you could never tell with an alien, up and down checking for any obvious weapons. Finding none she nodded in an almost nonexistent motion before putting away the blade she still held and stating "Talk. But I'd better like what you've got to say." There was no fear behind her words but the threat was utterly empty, she couldn't fuck this guy up. Truthfully, Rachel would simply run if the elite gave her reason to, its large size would hopefully hinder its movement through the nearby buildings.

"Having observed your aggressive approach to combat I too hope you approve of what I have to say." Shifting its weight from one foot to the other the elite continued "I do not know why I am on this planet... I do not even know who I am or what you are. However, while your stance was not friendly, you did not run from me nor attack me. The first of your kind to refrain from such actions since my arrival. This makes you unique." The elite's eyes had been shifting around the scene as he spoke, but paused when they were caught by the intense stare of the short mammal before him.

The sight was almost comical, a gargantuan reptile standing as stiff as if being scolded while the 2 and half feet shorter Rachel Taylor stood stock still, arms folded, holding an incredibly unimpressed countenance. Untucking one arm she flattened her hand out and swept it before her "Do you know why you don't know any of these things?" She spoke in a tone of condescension.

One might say this ground the alien's gears but he remained civil and responded "The most recent memory I can bring to mind involves me waking up on the floor of a small room in severe pain focused around my head. The room was part of a much larger structure consisting of purples and blues that seemed to have sustained heavy damage. After some exploration the exit revealed itself to me and I found my way into this environment."

"An E.T. with head trauma who's forgotten who he is, I need a bloody drink." Rachel reached into an inner pocket of her coat and pulled out a bottle containing some of kind of liquid. She took a swig of it before sighing in relief, wiping any remaining fluids from her lips using a sleeve. Her facial muscles relaxed significantly as if the contents of the bottle was some kind of miracle remedy, to her it clearly was.

The elite took note of this and dared ask "What is that liquid? May you share some for I have been overtaken by thirst."

"Vodka, and no you're not having any. For several reasons, you look like a lightweight, this stuff will tear your head apart if you're dehydrated, with those four things that make up your mouth I think you'd waste a lot and finally no one fucking touches my vodka. You're not getting any water either at least until you give me something to call you."

The intimidating figure's eyebrow ridges lowered in disapproval before his gaze seemed to phase out "I remember my name... But the very thought of it brings me great shame for reasons I cannot think of."

"Don't piss about, this situation is enough of a headache without you bogging me down with your negative sentimentalities. So pass unto me a name or I'll pass unto you a shit storm."

The unnamed one thoughtfully considered his reply. "Your threats are both unnecessary and grating but you may call me Apex."

Admittedly the name surprised Rachel, _an odd choice... One I can stand however._ "You play by my rules you gotta suffer through my threats Apex. Name's Rachel Taylor. I don't know what exactly you want from me, however due to the technicality that you did save my life..." The tall women tucked her hands behind her back and bowed briefly, "you are owed a favor. So, what might that favor be?" Rachel humbly acquiesced power over the situation to Apex.

"Information first, I am presently at a lack of it. Then if possible... refuge."

At the first request Rachel started nodding her head. At the second her face scrunched up and she nervously started biting her lip, an action that was most likely habitual as she failed to even notice when she had bit hard enough to draw blood. Gritting her teeth and tensing up Rachel forced out "That is no small favor."

"Maybe so. However if you let me accompany you I can act as a deterrent to hostile interference, and as a wingman of sorts." Apex offered his argument.

"I've spent 8 years surviving this shit alone." Rachel's composure had waned as she pointed disdainfully towards the offending individual and gestured with her other hand to the incapacitated skinnies around her.

"I am confused by your resistance to help. If you have been counteracting threats of this kind for 8 years then you are resourceful, but the predicament you were facing when I arrived indicated that your luck was in decline."

"That's..." Rachel started before she lowered her arms and finished "A disarming statement."

"As it was intended to be."

_Wise arse son of a bitch._

"Fine, we're getting out this damnable alleyway. You walk in front of me at all times and pull no shit. I'll direct you back home and we'll take things from there now shake my bloody hand you deep space wreck." Taylor had stepped forward extending her hand over the unconscious skinny between them.

Mimicking the action Apex concealed Rachel's hand completely as he wrapped his own around it, he followed her lead when she started shaking.

_Common sense says I'm going to regret this, but logic thinks he might be right about my luck._


	3. The Word 'Unique' Lacks Specificity

-AN

To those that have already read this chapter, I apologize. I had published it without editing and checking properly, leading to some careless errors. I've fixed what errors I could find now.

Updated 28/05/13: Fixed a few missed grammatical errors.

* * *

Apex observed Taylor removing a knife from one of the deceased's neck in an almost casual manner and swiping the blood off on the body's clothes. _The black clad mammal has clearly seen much death._

She then approached the slumped form of Eyeballs, looking up at the elite. He who had not moved from his spot during their entire interlocution. "Back off." She stated simply before bending down, weapon drawn.

Apex complied, but questioned "What are you going to do?"

Looking up from the man Rachel's green eyes scanned the Elite's features before she replied "I'm gonna kill him." She returned her gaze to the body as if her answer was just casual banter.

"In cold blood?"

"Yes." The woman's frustration was building up as was translated into her tone.

"Is this not unnecessary? This combatant is of no further threat to you."

If there was a large tantalizing red button in Rachel's psyche whose function was to piss her off then Apex's fingers were teasing its rim. She stood up abruptly pointing to the combatant in question "Do you know who this man is?" She half turned holding her arms apart "Who any of these men are?" It was a rhetorical question; of course he did not know. "They're skinnies, that's a non-literal ligature of bastard and cannibal. They eat the dead, whether the dead be their own or their enemies. I'd want to die if I was any of them."

"Cannibalism... That is a contemptible property, but your approach to the situation is callous." Neither an accusation nor an insult, merely an observation.

"I don't claim to be a Samaritan."

"Hmm." The elite's disapproval and discomfort were both clear from his body language even had he not opened his mouth (or array of mandibular appendages). Still, he watched Rachel slit the unconscious man's throat without batting an eyelash before moving to the only other surviving "skinny" to do the same. He looked away, dark gaze instead focusing on the end of the alleyway.

Taylor finished her "work" before frisking each corpse. Finding two bottles of water and three throwing knives contained in a pack Eyeballs had been wearing. "Lucky bastard."

She pocketed the weapons and the bottles, the former with disturbing enthusiasm. Turning to beckon Apex into movement she paused, a small object glinting in the sunlight had caught her eye. It lay next to the skinny she had stabbed in the heart and had a golden sheen to it. Strolling over to the anomaly she picked it up and turned it around in her hands, her eyes seemed to go out of focus as she did so.

Apex watched her actions, curious. He started slightly when she dropped the object, crushing it underfoot before kicking down the alleyway. Rachel raised her hand and stated nonchalantly "After you."

Somewhat puzzled the hulking figure turned and began walking. He stopped momentarily to look down at the battered object. It was a locket in the shape of a heart, within it were shards of broken glass, mildly obscuring a small picture. Apex's keen eyes discerned the contents of the picture. A younger version of the dead skinny composed one half of it, his arm extending into the other half to wrap around the shoulders of a South Asian woman. One with brilliant green eyes. Both were smiling happily.

Apex picked up the locket, tucking it into a hidden compartment on his suit before resuming his walk.

_Maybe this person was not the best choice as a source of help. Hmm, I live in interesting times..._

* * *

Two hours of information overload later had Apex sifting through the terminology he was being bombarded with.

"So you are a 'freelancer' and they are those of moral high ground."

"Not necessarily, some kill people for whatever possessions they have on them."

"Are you such a person?"

"Only when the other guy takes the piss."

"Your use of language is vulgar."

"And yours is haughtily sophisticated."

"Touche."

* * *

An hour further into the day and the Sun was starting to set. Applying a hazy yellow hue onto the primarily concrete scenery and casting long, equally hazy shadows.

"And this, Event, no one knows what caused it, what it constituted of?"

"I certainly don't, although it knocked out the main grid and almost all electrical circuitry in the city. So it must have involved some kind of powerful EMP component."

"Could such an event have repeated itself? The structure I awoke in may have been a crashed ship."

Rachel stopped walking, clearly considering this notion thoughtfully.

However, when Apex heard the break in her step and craned his head to look at her, something was amiss. Her green eyes, that were her most easily discernible feature in the dark alleyway they had paused in, were in distant focus and she seemed to have frozen mid step; the woman's left arm and right leg were extended forward while her right arm and left leg were extended behind her.

"Taylor?" Apex was understandably confused, and to a measure worried.

Without any clear trigger, Rachel suddenly resumed her step. Finishing it she looked up at Apex as though nothing had happened and responded to his previous question "It's possible. Other than the EMP there were no obvious signs anything had happened at all, since everything's fried now anyway a second Event could easily go unnoticed. If your ship did crash it explains some seismic rumbles I heard, woke me up in the middle of the bloody night." She lowered her head momentarily and hmmed, before adding as a footnote "Almost expected an earthquake to erupt and swallow this whole goddamned city, I was disappointed."

Apex blinked "That is a point of interest in and of itself but first, you paused mid step to answer my question and... it was as though time simply froze for you. You even became unresponsive to outside beckoning, I should not expect that this is normal human behaviour."

"Then stick to your previous assertion that I'm unique." Rachel tapped her head twice with the tip of her index finger. "Eidetic memory, sometimes it takes awhile to sift through all the shit you remember and find what you're looking for."

"One of perfect memory one of none. It lets you imagine that fate has a sense of humour."

"Quite." Rachel replied simply before proceeding "Now get moving outta here before you swamp me in conversation again, stop when you get to the end of this alley."

Doing as told Apex took up position on the left of the alleyway entrance, while Taylor caught up and braced herself on the right.

In front and to their left was an archetypal abandoned warehouse: a single very tall storey, broad, long and surrounded by a certain gloom, seeming to project a dark aura into the nearby area. Along its front was some form of identification tag in bold white writing that read "HH 324".

"Welcome to the hidey-hole, welcome to home." Rachel scanned the scenery around the warehouse with eagle like intensity and precision, however the natural gift of good eyesight allowed Apex to search for threats to even greater effect. He still found none.

"Path's clear, now make a dash towards that vent." Rachel pointed. The vent was roughly 3 feet tall, four feet wide and 40 feet away from them. As Apex started to run, amazingly making no sound at all which Taylor duly noted, the tall woman made to sprint across the gap as well. Simple difference in stature meant she arrived several moments after Apex.

Rachel's breathing had slightly accelerated after the run but not by any significant amount. "Ok, pull that grating off and get in there."

Apex frowned at the woman, looking down at the covered opening before looking back at Rachel.

"What? You scared of vents?"

"Very few things frighten me and vents are not one of them. However the very idea of entering such a small space, especially in armor, makes me uncomfortable. Though my memory fails me as to actually why."

Rachel's manner was somewhat... excited by this statement. "Look E.T. I didn't spend three hours dragging you over here so you could get all claustrophobic on me, now get in the fucking vent you Alien Versus Predator mockup!"

What Apex felt was not quite fear, more a feeling of treading on dangerous territory. Thus he hesitantly complied. First removing the grating, revealing that it was only balanced there and not actually attached, before glancing up at Rachel. She raised an eyebrow and turned her head to the side in command.

Sighing, although from the elite's body is sounded almost like a cough, Apex entered a crawling position... Then entered the vent, his armor making a faint scratching sound as he went that ground on Taylor's nerves.

Waiting until his legs disappeared completely Rachel grabbed the vent cover and crawled backwards after him, replacing the cover. Her eyes were visible briefly, staring out of the vent before disappearing as she turned round to follow the elite.


	4. When Vodka Helps Nothing

-AN

Thank you to all who have read, reviewed or followed the story. Every little show of support is a great encouragement to my writing. Now please, enjoy!

* * *

"Does this vent end soon?" Apex, who had enjoyed no part of scrambling through dark, cramped tunnels with nothing but another's word to direct him, called back to Rachel.

The woman of green eyes, who while not enjoying such an experience was significantly more accustomed to it, thought through her answer momentarily before responding. "Path curves left in a moment, there's a fairly long straight before it opens out from a wall. There'll be no indications that it's there other than the floor dropping away." Taylor cringed as the black armored elite hefted himself around the corner she had referred too, producing a particularly wicked scraping sound with his armor. "Shit, it's no wonder you hate small spaces if this is the racket you make moving around in them."

"Your manner is intolerable human, you are at least familiar with this contemptible route. The scratching is no less grating for myself and I have my own anxieties to sum with that, ones I do not even know the source of." Apex could no longer hold onto composure, not even for the sake of cooperation with the mammal.

"Cry me a river." Was the unsympathetic reply.

_How obnoxious. I am beginning to find dislike in this woman._ Such thoughts were expertly restrained from the Elite's words when he encountered the vent opening and stated without preamble "What is the distance to the ground?"

Silence...

"Taylor?"

"One yard, two feet, one inch."

"That is oddly specific."

"You complaining?" Rachel's voice seemed taught, almost slightly pained.

Filing this away for later analysis Apex placated her "Only observing." He then considered how to exit safely, without enough room to turn around fully this presented a problem. Clearly coming to some form of conclusion Apex sigh/coughed heavily before leaning his arms out of the egress. He planted his hands on the floor before walking them forwards, dragging his legs out of the opening as he went. A grunt escaped him as his two digit feet fell from the vent and made a solid landing.

He pushed himself up, moving to the side, before announcing "I am no longer obstructing the exit."

Rachel needed not demean herself in such a way, able to comfortably turn and drop out legs first. Recounting her route from muscle memory she walked to a space near the middle of the pitch black room. "Close your eyes." Was the only warning she provided before a homey yellow glow spread out from next to her.

It illuminated what could be a form of botched sitting room were it not for the patches of exposed metal flooring and concrete walls. The area was mostly flat but with a few unfoldable, unfolded chairs with boxes, cans and other such items resting on them. Cloths covered some piles of objects, that caused small protrusions in them, and some parts of the floor.

Though Apex's eyes were closed, per Rachel's instruction, they could still detect the increase in brightness. After allowing them to adjust to the change somewhat he slowly parted their lids. The light source appeared to be a very large, bulked out and unwieldy looking hand held lamp. The surface of which was a deep metallic blue. It was oddly suspended by metal wires from what appeared to be a more normal ceiling lamp.

Adjacent to both was Taylor. Her black hair hung behind her somewhat and her brow was creased as she gulped down more vodka, before secreting it away in her jacket again. Only a small amount of tension seemed to dissipate from her when compared to the last time she drank the liquid.

Hand still resting in the vodka-pocket, she paused, her eyes looking upward as she remembered something. "I never did give you that water did I?" Now one of the bottles she had acquired off of the dead skinnies was removed from her multicompartmental trench coat.

She chucked the item at Apex, it produced a fluid distortion of light that projected yellow, shifting curves and twirls upon the wall as it spun through the air. The fast reacting elite deftly grabbed the bottle as it neared him, halting its movement along with the show of lights that had accompanied it.

Not taking long to figure out the opening mechanism, Apex placed the container's end onto his tongue and used it to funnel the water into his throat, tipping the bottle down to steeper angles as more and more of the liquid was transferred. Very soon after beginning this process the container was utterly empty, too soon in the parched amnesiac's mind. He had himself forgotten his thirst and felt no small amount of relief from the refreshment.

"Really were thirsty... You haven't eaten anything in a while either have you?" Taylor asked slightly hesitantly. She had decided to accommodate and share resources with the alien for mutual benefit along with the fact that leaving him to rot in this hell hole without direction would be morally bankrupt; but regardless, Rachel was still not exactly ecstatic about this idea.

The operative alien's response to her question was a small nod.

"Right."

* * *

One minute later.

"Bollocks..." Rachel spoke with disgusted awe. For before her was a massive elite in shining black armor with his 4 mandibles latched onto a tin of baked beans like a colossal squid's tentacles along a sperm whale. They were flexing, opening out and rippling around it as they shook its contents into his mouth.

Only 8 seconds or so after starting the tin was fully emptied. At this point Apex ejected it from his mandibles at high speed into his hand, producing a hollow, resounding plop.

"Shit. Don't ever eat in front of me again." Taylor ran a hand through her hair and started pacing, disturbed by the sight. "Don't ever, eat in front of me again! Damnation, now that image is burned into my brain like a number on a cow's arse." The frustrated woman was pinching her brow intensely.

"I... Apologize?" Of course to Apex there was nothing abnormal nor stomach churning about his actions at all.

"No look," Rachel lowered her hand from its position on her forehead and caught the elite's eyes "I..." She turned one hand around in the air, the other hand resting on her hip, before finding her words "Apologize. All the memory sifting and flash backs have let loose a roiling mental storm of sh-" She cut herself off, tempering her desire to spout expletives. "Has let loose a pounding migraine that's made me want to pounce on every little bloody thing."

The feisty woman's shoulders had slumped almost imperceptibly, but Apex detected it and was sure she was trying to hide the change. _Attempting to keep a strong front it would seem, admirable._ "I appreciate the apology. However you may hold onto it. I acknowledge that your eidetic memory is causing you pain, and that is mitigating enough."

"Ta."

"I am sorry?"

"It's a colloquialism, mean's thanks."

"You are welcome human."

Said human smiled slightly past her otherwise pained expression, only a small, brief gesture, but one that broke past her cynicisms and irregularities. If only for a moment. "We'll continue discussing the situation later or tomorrow Apex but I need to sleep this," She waved a hand in the vague direction of her head "off. And I'm sure you need some thinking time too."

Rachel moved over to one of the room's resident chairs, removing the second water bottle she had recovered and drinking some of its contents before placing it down on the piece of furniture. After which she removed a few more trinkets that had been acquired before her encounter with the skinnies, setting them next to the bottle.

Strangely, she did not remove the throwing knives from Eyeballs' pack...

Moving away from the chair she grabbed a rolled up blanket that was propped upright in the corner. "Take this, not the cleanest piece of bedding but it should do for sleeping on top of or underneath. There's a small room over there," Taylor indicated a fairly squat and inconspicuous door of the non-automatic pull open variety "should give us both some privacy." She scanned over the bulky elite's unconventional body shape before continuing. "I can't comprehend of you actually getting comfortable with what I have here but if that room's got any pillows then use them however you want. There are no rules in particular however, short of when disaster has struck waking me up is signing your own death warrant."

"Now, goodnight I guess."

"And much good rest to you too." Was Apex's polite reply. He stepped away from Rachel and moved over to the portal leading to his place of slumber. Stopping before opening it he looked backwards at Taylor and added "I appreciate this."

"You'd just better be a heavy hitter."

"For me, I could kill by sitting on one of your kind." He deadpanned.

Rachel was amused by this. "I suppose so."

Leaving their interactions at that Apex turned the door handle. Gently pushing it open, he entered sideways while ducking in order to fit through the small opening.

"Huh." The tall woman exhaled after watching the portal close with a quiet click. She unbuckled her boots, removing them and setting both down against the wall before moving over to a space next to the vent. Seating herself on a rug Rachel spoke casually and to no specific individual  
"He's actually a pretty nice guy."


	5. Dark Coloured Gold, Gold Coloured Black

-AN

I haven't updated in several weeks as I have been planning ahead various things for the rest of the story and having a break from writing. I hope you enjoy the following chapter and if you have any criticisms or the like then feel free to drop me a review or pm.

28/04/13 Update: fixed a few typos and word repetitions.

* * *

When Apex squeezed through the doorway from Rachel's room he entered one very similar to hers; groups of items sat on chairs or under cloths at the sides of the room, an overengineered in appearance lamp hung in its centre and an ominous looking open vent was set into one of the walls.

Moving over to the light the elite switched it on before returning to the door and closing it. A few moments later he faintly heard Rachel speaking from the other side. "Huh... He's actually a pretty nice guy."

Apex wrinkled the end of his snout slightly before muttering under his breath: "It is heartening that first impressions were decent." He continued within the soundless confines of his mind. _I have had several impressions of the woman... My first, I suppose, was that she was rude and my second that she was unstable. Neither were completely false but... harsh as a general judgement. She has been kind to me after all. If primarily in actions rather than words._

During his thoughts he had idly rolled out the rug Taylor had given him perpendicular to the vent wall. Looking down, the inconveniently tall alien saw that the piece of material did not extend nearly far enough to accommodate his whole body. At this realisation Apex was consumed with nostalgia. _That is a disappointing first familiar feeling._

Having a pragmatic approach to situations he simply perused the area for a second rug, noting that the room's contents was organised in a neat and tidy manner. _The human has attempted to maintain standards even through hard times, an effort worthy of respect._

Only a short amount of time passed before Apex had located his objective item. It was found underneath a small square purple cushion with a loose opening across its front. He took this as well, laying it at the head of his 'bed' and laying the blanket at the other end. Running his eyes along his work Apex decided that it would have to suffice.

10 minutes of armor stripping later had the brown scaled elite dressed only in a dark grey thermal skinsuit composed of a matte synthetic material. The garment ran from his ankles to the top of his neck. At each place that it cut off, at the end of every extremity, it threaded into a metallic, lighter grey ring that locked to prevent the suit from shifting when it's wearer moved. Elliptical segments of a pliable, ebony coloured, lightweight form of under-armor could be seen protruding out slightly at various points on the suit. The largest segments could be found on the thighs, shins and back; the smallest on the arms and torso, the latter appearing to have a 20+ pack as a result.

A further hour had Apex sleeping in inescapable discomfort.

Four hours more had him frowning, mandibles taut and flitting occasionally, while inside his head a vivid memory was unfolding.

_He was kneeled down on the floor of the small room he had woken up in; armorless and with hands bound by energy gauntlets. Surrounding him were elegantly curved metal walls consisting of a plethora of deep blues and purples. In front of and facing him was a shorter but still imposing elite donning bright golden armor. "You are a heretical disgrace." He spoke in guttural Sangheilian with disdain, mandibles flaring before he continued. "Soon this ship shall return to High Charity. There you will be hung by your entrails and paraded around the halls as an example, along with the sniffling heretic you protected."_

_The zealot field master's light-consuming eyes stared at Apex, his features just barely quivering, before he twisted his upper body and dealt a full-on punch to the side of the bound elite's face, eliciting from him a loud grunt that echoed back off of the walls. Then without a word the shorter of the two left. An impenetrable energy shield materializing behind him, barring the taller of the two from leaving.  
_

_And so Apex sat staring into nothingness before everything turned to white and he _awoke with a start, as well as high blood pressure. Rubbing the side of his face that had been punched the slightly dazed elite stated "That was interesting..."

Due to the difference between passage of time in reality and passage of time in a dream, or memory in this case, he could not tell exactly _when_ it was. This led him to silently open the door to Rachel's room; which was still darkened, thus it could be deduced that morning had not yet been reached. Apex idly mused out that Taylor's body was probably in sync with the passing of day and night since both were concealed from the eye in these rooms. Other such thoughts ran through his head as he resigned himself to several more hours of boredom and low quality sleep.

* * *

Meanwhile, many miles away, a small fire was roasting some kind of human appendage. It sat in the centre of a small walled in square, surrounded by several skyscraper-height concrete structures that were blocky in design and dotted with windows. The light source's warm, flickering glow illumined two men on either side of it who would otherwise be in near total darkness. One was a squat Irishman and the other a younger, vertically advantaged American with a substantial dark coloured beard. The former appeared deep in concentration.

"Something on your mind Leprechaun?" The latter.

"After six years you'd think you'd learn how that name makes me feel: like tearin' arse."

"Right, but seriously are you ok?" Was the initially dismissive, later tentative, response.

"I haven't been ok in years Black Beard. There was something I wanted to ask though."

"Oh?"

"Would you kill me if I wanted you to?"

Understandably, this made the taller man uncomfortable. He shifted from foot to foot as the fire crackled and popped, indifferent to the happenings of its environment. Eventually he began his response. "Uh... Uhhhh..." Or rather attempted to begin his response. "It would depend on the why." He finally managed to get out.

Leprechaun laughed bitterly at this "Why? Because I ain't got anythin' good to live for. All that my," he paused, gesturing at a nearby building inside of which three more skinnies sat playing cards "our, existence does is cause others pain. Inglorious thugs, the lot of us. Once upon a time I was a doctor for fuck's sake." To accentuate his final statement he gobbed an impressively large ball of spit into the fire; it sizzled away almost instantly.

"Well that all sucks... But instead of doing yourself off, personally or by proxy, you could try physically escaping dominion."

"To what exactly? No food, less water and permanent pursuit by a buncha wankers. I'm too old for all that."

"How about starting a revolution?"

"Only for it to fail and me to be made an example of in front of said wankers. Many a revolution before has ended without success so no fuckin' thanks."

"That's settled then. If death is the only road you're willing to go along I don't think it's one I'll be following you down." Black Beard shook his head and lowered his eyebrows for emphasis. He looked to the side and back before continuing. "You can kill your own damn self if you're so sparky about it but leave me, better yet push me, far far away from it."

"Fuckin' fine." Was the indignant response.

At this point both men shuffled to face their respective lefts, boots scuffing against the ground as they did so.

Five minutes of silence was broken when Leprechaun spoke: "Do you think the petulance has worn off yet?"

"Yeah I don't feel as though the childishness really needs to continue any longer."

They turned to look at each other and Black Beard stated his case. "If we did revolt there's a 99% chance we'd both be killed, which you seem indifferent to. But if we get that lucky 1% then maybe things in this place will get that much better. What do you say?"

"Fuck!" This was not a response to the question but a reaction to the fizzling blade of energy that had violently stabbed through the American's chest. Right where his heart was. Leprechaun had only blinked; but in that short space of optical inactivity a large, golden armored elite had slipped behind his friend and impaled him.

The zealot field master now held Black Beard in the air by the back of his neck as he quivered and released several stuttering breaths. Unable to hold onto his life force any longer, his body dropped limp. This prompted the killer to throw it behind him without respect; it was then deflected to the side with a thump as the door it was heading for opened sharply.

A female skinny exited at a pace holding a dagger, followed by two men holding crowbars, and exclaimed "Oh snap!" before shoving her allies back inside. She took a second look at the elite as it glanced in her direction before entering the building herself, shutting the door as quickly as possible.

"Right there's an armed Alien out there. Yea or nay, shall we try and frick him up?"

Three unanimous "Nays" sounded preceding the frantic scrabbling of each skinny in the opposite direction from the portal. One of the men stopped to pick up their supplies bag and followed his comrades through the darkened building.

The moment that the cause of Leprechaun's late friend's demise had become apparent he had begun running away. Distracted by the door opening, the golden elite had not pursued or otherwise taken action.

Thus, said elite now stood alone in the small area, his keen hearing detecting the skinnies' urgent foot steps as they scarpered in both directions. "Another fight I am deprived of." Goldy spoke in Sangheilian. Like Apex's, his voice was deep however, unlike Apex's, it was also rough and scratchy. Now his attention focused on the human arm that roasted upon a spit above the fire and his eyes gained a noticeable longing. He could smell that it was human matter but didn't much care. At the end of the day it was still significantly more appealing than field rations.

Goldy's mandibles fluttered in anticipation.


	6. A Freelancer and Elite Walk Into A Bar

-AN

15/05/13

I have updated this chapter to give it a little more depth and realism, per suggestion of KATT9033. Thanks for reading and enjoy!

16/05/13 corrected some careless errors and updated all chapters to fix some pervasive word capitalisation mistakes.

* * *

Half an hour had passed since Leprechaun's ally had been attacked. He had sprinted for the first minute, ran for the next two and alternated between fast walking and jogging for the rest. He finally came to a stop next to one of many stores on a long street.

Behind the shop's thick, bulletproof glass display window were various highly detailed action figures in groups of three, shrouded in the veil of night and casting dramatic shadows behind them from the moonlight. Each group contained a specific type of figure but in several different sizes: small, medium and large. One set in particular featured a man with a close-shaven head, a long black trench coat, jogging bottoms of the same colour with two white stripes down the side and long engineer boots covered with buckles along the front. The large and small versions of this figure were present but the medium was conspicuously absent.

All this information was no doubt subconsciously noted by Leprechaun as he leaned his right forearm against the window and lay his brown hair-covered head against it. "Ah Black Beard, God rest your kind soul... And curse the one who tore it from your body." Were the mourning man's quiet words.

Rapidly approaching footsteps and a flash of movement in the reflection of the window ripped him from his contemplations, prompting him to turn to the source of the disturbance. Which came in the form of a man wearing a scuffed and torn grey business suit coupled with a red necktie. It is most unlikely that these details were even subconsciously registered as his nose collided with the man's elbow before he had even turned fully, producing a fleshy snap as it broke. When this initial impact is paired with the solid bounce of his head against the window and the even more solid crack of his chin against the floor, it is no surprise that the poor man was left utterly unconscious, utterly at the will of his assailant.

He who proceeded to frisk Leprechaun for any useful possessions. Only a boot knife was found, resulting in a disappointed huff from the mugger. Gripped in the hand of said mugger, the blade was slid down the side of the knocked out skinny's neck until it rested beneath it, a skin-deep cut marking its path. The weapon teetered in its place before its wielder thought better of his actions and carefully drew it back; stowing it away before unruffling his clothing and casually strutting off.

Unfortunately for the Irishman that was left lying on the floor, an apocalyptic city contains few witnesses, and fewer who would lend a helping hand.

* * *

It was at the passing from night to dawn that Rachel had awoken. She presently stood next to the lit lamp in her room, winding around some form of crank on its body with one hand while the other held it still. The woman's gaze was distant and her face neutral; meanwhile her efforts were producing a loud, high pitched whirring sound which no doubt could be heard by Apex next door.

This was confirmed when he opened the portal separating their quarters a short while after the noise began. Taylor's eyes flicked towards him instantly, her thoughts playing out. _He looks like shit._ She stopped cranking and turned to him. "You look like shit." Her rough, cockney accent accentuated the final word in the sentence.

"Is there greater meaning to that statement than the fact that my scales are dark brown?" Returned dryly by Apex.

"I was using the term 'shit' dysphemistically. What I meant is that you look tired." She addended "Which is saying something when night's 14 hours long."

"Indeed. My slumber was shortened by a curious memory. One from earlier than I could consciously remember." The armorless Elite did not receive any feedback, either in body language or words, from Rachel, giving him pause. Though she had shown a tendency to phase out during conversation this time she seemed simply distracted, staring _at_ Apex rather than through him. "Is there an issue Taylor?"

Her eyes flicked to his and she responded "No, I was just looking at your head. It appears especially strange without the helmet on."

"To you perhaps." He delayed momentarily. "I find human heads strange, this wavy material covering the top and back seems like an unnecessary and inconvenient feature."

"Hmm. Do your women not have it either?"

The Elite's eyes looked downwards, a few moments passing before they returned to Rachel's and he answered "I cannot recall."

A nod of understanding preceded her response. "Sorry. So this memory, what did it reveal?"

"It revealed that I am a convict, and apparently a heretic on top of this." He waved his arms forwards slightly in a gesture of nonchalance. "It seemed I would have been executed and my defiled corpse used as an example to others of my kind, to what end I am unaware."

"Convict eh? Sexy. But your crime must've been something pretty heavy to garner that kind of sentence." As she spoke Rachel walked over to a chair where her previous day's findings were left. Apex's eyes followed her with an empty stare while her movements produced a shadow that rotated around her from the lamp before coming to a stop at her side the moment she reached the chair. She removed the lid of a three-quarters full water bottle situated there, claiming a few gulps before re-screwing the cap and continuing. "Can you provide any insight into your felony?"

Her initial words had given him pause; however he decided to feign ignorance and answer her question. "I received only one clue as to what I was convicted of; it was that I had 'protected' another who was also convicted of 'heresy'."

Taylor gestured with the water bottle she still held. "Sounds like a serious religious system's in place. Could it be that those who disagree with the system, heretics, are immediately deemed worthy of death? If that's the case, it would make sense for them to exemplify you to show the consequences of..." she waved her free hand around "Holy disagreement."

The Convict frowned, shaking his head slowly and deliberately. He formulated his response in the same manner. "And what does it say about my race that we would not hesitate to kill each other purely on the basis of not submitting to a specific religion?"

At this point Rachel gestured, palm flat and fingers held together, towards Apex. "Not a load positive, but much of the human race was like that as well once upon a time. Some still are."

"I should suppose that it is a societal development phase then, if a shameful one. Oh, and I have a question."

"Ask."

"You do not hold much knowledge of my people." A short pause. "Are our races at war?"

Rachel appeared contemplative prior to composing and proposing her response. "Yup." Turning and pacing casually back to her spot adjacent to the lamp, she threw her bottle into the air. It spun through the air until it was caught during its descent by the neck. Delaying before the sloshing of water was over, the woman finished "That, however, is a mind rape for another day. In this city, humanity is at war with itself. For now, what's happening elsewhere is inconsequential."

"Indeed. Also," Apex now folded his arms "I could not but notice the lack of impact my status as a convict had on you in the first instance." A not too unobvious pry for personal information, of which Rachel had revealed little whereas Apex had revealed as much as possible.

The statement finished when Taylor reached the lamp and it served to put her on the spot. Her eyes narrowed as she looked to the side of the Elite. "Well... There are dangerous types of people other than convicts."

"And you are one such person?"

As the person in question's emerald green eyes returned to the elite questioning her, the tone she used gained a frustrated edge and her weight began shifting between her feet. "You've seen me in action I'm not exactly Dora the fucking Explorer." A footnote was added to this: "Can't believe that show's still on today."

Ignoring the out-loud musing, Apex continued pressing "I saw you in action when you were somewhat forced to act immorally by circumstance. You were attacked, and so you fought back. You deemed that the unconscious skinnies would continue _their_ inherent immorality so you killed them, it may not be the way I would have conducted the situation however it is... Justifiable. What makes you a dangerous type of person is the criminal treatment of another when it is not justifiable."

Rachel's gaze had gone into distant focus momentarily, during which time her features had started quivering.

Easily sensing her discomfort, Apex lowered his arms and went on in as soft a tone as his naturally intimidating voice would allow. "You say you have been surviving these adverse circumstances for 8 years. Were you a dangerous type of person before that?"

The woman's face was taut with tension and her head had turned away from the Elite. Her mouth opened, it seemed as though she was about to answer his question when her expression hardened, her head turned back and her voice sounded without a quiver "Fuck off Apex. Just fuck off." To emphasise her expletives she threw her water bottle to one side with force. Two black eyes followed the item as it clattered across the top of a chair, knocking down a few miscellaneous medals, pendants and some kind of action figure. The unfortunate fluid-container rolled along the floor as Rachel blanked Apex's presence completely and returned to cranking the lamp; while the offending alien's attention had refocused directly forwards (at a height two and a half feet above Taylor's head), his arms autonomously linked behind his back and his eyes clamped onto nothing in particular.

They were both left in silence except for the crank's high pitched whirring, thinking away what had just occurred.

_He ain't got no bloody right to know about my past._

_It is obvious the woman is upset. I pressed too hard._

_He shouldn't have pressed at all, if I want to talk about myself that's my decision._

_I suppose it is her decision whether she withholds personal information or not.  
_

_Then again I could have just said "I don't want to talk about it." I think he'd accept that._

_On the other hand she may have told me "I do not wish to talk about it." I would have accepted that._

_We both cocked up then; though he started it._

_So we are both in the wrong; although I started it._

_Maybe ending with double f-bombs was a bit much though._

_But her ending of the altercation seemed over the top._

_You live, you learn, you move on. For both of us._

_Living means learning, and proceeding from mistakes with an extra lesson in hand. For all involved._ _  
_

The whir continued for a few seconds before Rachel stopped, turning her head sideways towards Apex. This coincided with Apex lowering his head back down to Rachel and returning his arms to his sides.

"I..." Spoken by both, a second coincident. Taylor continued first "I'm sorry I let emotions run that high and told you to... 'Fuck off'... Twice."

"I apologize for initiating such an exchange, pressing you into a corner. It was an act of unfairness. May we learn from this situation and-"

"_Never_ repeat it again." The woman turned fully. She extended a hand which was, for the second time, blotted out entirely by Apex's as they shook.

* * *

Seven hours, fifteen minutes earlier.

A heavily dazed Leprechaun woke up with nose pain, neck pain, neck joint pain, chin pain, head pain and back of head pain. The combination of these factors resulted in a pained groan as the man lay there, wits slowly returning. He drew his arms to near his head, laying his palms against the floor and pushing himself up. Wavering from side to side as he stood, the man was left bent double with his hands on his thighs. "Some fucking freelancers." were his only words as he took stock of all possessions left on him. None, as his boot knife was the only one he carried.

Sighing, the defeated man continued walking dejectedly down the deserted street in near darkness. As he had before.

* * *

-AN

I had intended to make this chapter longer however this seemed like a good place to finish. Hopefully the next chapter will be up soon to compensate but we'll see how it goes. Thank you again to all that have read, reviewed, followed and favourited the story. All of these things are a buzz to see.


	7. Eve, ET and Bloody Fruit

-AN

This chapter wasn't up quite as soon as I had hoped but it's here now. I hope it is to everyone's liking.

Also, I'm curious as to what gender people think I am. I've read many fan fictions before and assumed the author was a certain gender only to be proven utterly wrong when they revealed it. You could tell me what you think in a review or PM.

Enjoy.

* * *

There was a squat cube like structure that was once a thriving restaurant. An inactive neon sign protruded from its top and cold early-morning light shone across it. The steel side door leading to its interior had been broken in by something powerful, its middle was deformed inwards and its upper hinge had been ripped free from its welding.

A skinny whose misfortune placed his head on the other side of the portal when it was "opened" lay next to it, dead or unconscious.

Past him was a more regularly opened door that led to a run down kitchen. Within which lay two more men propped up, one on top of the other, against the end of a counter 12 feet away from the door. Both men possessed dual cauterised stab wounds in the chest and both men's heads hung limply to the left. One loosely gripped a meat knife, the other a carving fork.

Further along from the carcasses was another open doorway in which was a cleanly decapitated female skinny. She had three throwing knives linked by hook to her belt and a single hook for a fourth.

Her body lay parallel to a serving counter that extended beyond her. Piled against it were a few skeletal cadavers whose presence could not really be explained and at the counter's end, lying face down in its own blood, was a fifth case of death.

One final corpse was stood up just inside the restaurant's bulletproof glass front door with its head stuck through it. The glass was not so much shattered as broken, providing a sort of collar for the man's neck.

And in the centre of the eating area, holding a skinny with a broken nose, was none other than Goldy. He was standing casually with his left hand around the whimpering man's throat and his energy sword disarmed against his thigh. A knife stuck out of his right shoulder with a thin trail of purple blood leading down from the wound. "Your information has been useful, honourless human." The elite spoke in scratchy English with disdain. "But now the burning afterlife will consume you."

The frightened mammal let out a particularly pathetic sniffle accompanied by a cliched "No please!" that was, as is tradition, ignored. He was raised higher in the air and the pressure on his throat increased until against his struggling he blacked out. Goldy sustained his crushing grip until the subject of his aggression was dead beyond reasonable doubt.

Pleased with his work the golden armored individual strutted to the entrance and its embedded human body. He removed the blade from his shoulder and effortlessly stored it in the corpse's neck. Turning the door handle he pulled it and dragged the door outwards along with the carcass. Slipping through the opening before closing it once again, he walked away down the street with a swagger of self-satisfaction.

* * *

After Rachel and Apex made up, Rachel proposed that they take a walk within the nearby vicinity to get the elite familiar with it. She had brought with her a military issue duffel bag and he had written on his brain in bold ink several landmarks to use as references for navigating the area. Among them were electronics store "ETools R Us", british pub "The Proud Bitch" and small toy store "Hamlet's".

When the tour so to speak had concluded the two found appropriate places to privately "dump excess waste" before heading together in the direction of their initial meeting place, beyond which was a street Taylor claimed to be blanketed in fast growing fruit; the likes of which she had not seen in many years. Along their three hour plus journey they maintained a companionable silence. The only sounds were the quiet scuff of the woman's boots against the ground and behind her the quieter squish of the alien's bare feet against the same.

Both sounds were quelled as Rachel came to a stop at the mouth of their meeting alley, 4 dead skinnies lying still in her vision. Her eyes zoned out, reflexively flicking from side to side slightly as they pointed down the alleyway. Her only movements were the subtle vibration of her body due to its pulse.

Apex simply lowered his head to the woman and waited. He startled slightly when in a quick motion she brought her right hand to her ear and snapped her fingers. An action which broke her reverie. She spoke in an emotionless monotone. "I know you don't approve of me killing skinnies in cold blood. But I don't care. In this place, better to lose the principles and keep yourself out of future slash present trouble than the other way around."

"I am not sure a saint would approve of your cold rationale."

Taylor turned her head back to him. "I told you I wasn't a Samaritan."

"Oh?"

"What? You think I am?"

"The precise definition of Samaritan, I believe, is 'One who assists someone who is in distress.' You helped me when I could be said to be in distress. Thus, you are indeed a Samaritan."

The woman stared at him with a look of intense, unwavering disapproval that Apex returned with his regular look of neutral severity.

"You'll shit on that statement one day." was her conversation stopper as she proceeded to walk down the alley. _"Thus you are indeed a Samaritan." Posh, smug, wise arse, technicality winning son of a bitch! I'll make him shit on that statement one day._

Once more both individual's foot steps sounded. Rachel willed the remaining silence to be uncomfortable but Apex's calmness did not allow it, and so they walked in companionable silence, again.

* * *

"I don't know if they're biologically compatible. Lick one of the fucking things and see if you die."

"Are you aware of the problem with that test."

"What problem in particular?"

"That if I die I will not live to find out its result."

"Touche."

The unlikely partners stood near the middle of a long street. Some stripped down and burgled cars sat parked on the sides of the road while trees lined the edges of the pavement, set within small square sections of earth and bordered in with short rises of concrete. Untamed by man their roots had spread outwards from their confinement and littered the area with cracks of varying sizes. Many of the cracks contained stout leafy plants, each one with a large, nut shaped, oily, brown coloured and overall unattractive looking fruit at its centre. It was clear that the fruit had been planted recently by someone as their presence was restricted to an orderly rectangle of the street around 20 metres long.

"Now." Began Rachel. "Be careful when you pick these things because when you pull the fruit it gets ejected from the plant at high speed. Observe." The woman crouched over one of the plants to demonstrate and was clearly herself unprepared for the power of the ejection. The instant she pulled at the plant the fruit was propelled upwards. It was deflected by her hand towards her face which was hit with force. Knocked of balance she fell onto her back, face clutched in her hands. Rage and humiliation heated the woman's face as she stated quietly with contempt "Fuckin' devious, shit-eating, shit-looking, plant piece of shit making a fool of me like you think your better than me you ain't nothing ain't fuckin' nothing I ought to crush you you-"

She was interrupted by the massive elite who, having seen that her epithets were going nowhere productive, strolled to her feet, gripped her at the underarms and without effort lifted her off the floor into the air. In shock she had quietened, removing her hands from her face to see Apex's a foot below hers... And the ground eight and a half feet below that. Rachel's eyes edged uncertainly between the thick arms holding her up as she was unsure of the meaning the alien was trying to convey, he had perfected his poker face after all.

"Are you quite finished Taylor?" His voice contained traces of amusement that reassured the woman somewhat. Although she didn't show it, responding with only a silent nod and an expression that petulantly accused the offending individual of impudence. Satisfied, Apex returned his load to ground level once more.

As soon as she hit the floor Rachel stated while unruffling her trench coat "I ought to hole you out like swiss cheese you big lump of alien."

Still feeling quite amused, Apex crossed his arms and returned "Your attempts at intimidation are pointless and ineffective."

Feeling quite the opposite, Taylor responded "Only because you're twice my size, wearing armor, possessed of a gaunt stare and own a frightening tapestry of a fricked up face. Otherwise I'd..." Her sentence trailed into nothingness as she lost the heart to continue. Apex had already subverted her strong front so there was little point left to it. In realisation of this she rubbed her hand across her brow, eyes closed. "Just pick some of these things and pop 'em in the bag." Said bag was placed on the floor moments later, and a few moments after that a small popping sound began ticking over as she turned her attention to picking the fruit herself.

The elite moved a short distance away before turning back, his voice having sobered entirely "Remember, Rachel, that while I may have saved your life I am also ever indebted to you for your assistance and have no intention to serve against your interest. Thus, power playing is needless as is verbally trying to enforce your superiority." He now turned away, walked another short distance and began harvesting some plants of his own.

His words, in particular his first use of her given name, had caused the woman to pause crouched down with her back facing him. Two emerald orbs moving back and forth, shrouded in shadow by the hair that hung down the sides of her face. She remained paused for a short few seconds after he had finished, muttering "Maybe." under her breath before continuing her task.

* * *

Later in the safety of the Hidey-Hole, Rachel sat to the left of the entry vent, Apex at the right, both with one leg out flat and one drawn up with an arm resting atop the knee. Centrally aligned between them, three metres in front of the vent opening, stood the duffel bag, filled a quarter of the way up with fruit and bending to the woman's side with its own weight.

Rotating her head to Apex's side, the dim lighting of the room casting the right half her face into near total shadow, Taylor found Apex doing the same and spoke "You dead yet?"

"Not yet." The elite had indeed licked one of the "ejection fruits" as he dubbed them.

After a small delay in which eye contact was held, both returned their heads to full illumination as before.

"Good." Taylor's response as she withdrew inwards for a personal conference. _I should apologize for being a bitch._

_No you shouldn't._

_And who the fuck are you to say that?_

_The strong half of Rachel._

_Don't speak in the fucking third person I'm me you're just a decision making construct of me._

_Listen to what I've got to say at least._

_Talk._

_You've always been the dominator. It's your style right._

_..._

_I guess._

_So you wouldn't be yourself if you apologized to the elite.  
_

_Maybe just this once it would be ok._

_Screw that! It starts with saying sorry, it'll end with you sniffing flowers, naked in the Garden of Eden while robins do your hair._

Apex quirked one eyebrow ridge and looked over as he caught a shiver running through Rachel in the corner of his vision.

_That's a haunting sight but I think E.T. deserves at least one exception to the rule._

_Suit yourself. Eve._

"I'm sorry for being a bitch."


	8. Eidetic Memories, Logical Deductions

-AN

Greetings oh gracious readers. I realise I've been inactive for quite a long time and that this may be frustrating. For that I apologize; but I hope you all enjoy the new chapter regardless. Also, I'm still open to all constructive criticism so do not hesitate to point out any flaws or errors you find, no matter how small. Now, without further adieu...

07/07/13 Update: made some lines more in character and fixed a few consistency errors.

* * *

_"I'm sorry for being a bitch."_

_The pile of items on the other side of the room is a mess. Shouldn't have thrown that water bottle. Have to clean up later._

_Apex hasn't responded. I look to him. A simple nod, followed by a blink of those black eyes. They're kinda creepy lookin'._

_Mission__ accomplished, apology accepted. What next? Right, mass death of boredom. Where's me fuckin' cards._

* * *

_Two red jacks and two black jacks? "Two red jacks and two black jacks?" Holding the cards is making my hands sweaty. Air's a tad musky and a tad more cold._

_The intergalactic bastard gains a smirk as a he gazes at the single card he now holds, almost unusably small in his hands. "Last card."_

_Well fuck me in two ways more than one. My face contorts into a grimace while I pick up 10 cards from the pile. Each one is laminated for extra longevity and patterned on the back by some impossible to follow spread of cyan coloured circles and lines, all against a black background. I don't even bother to look at my new hand as Apex reveals his last card: a winning ace of hearts. Three bloody games of blackjack in a row, and I don't believe in that "beginner's luck" B.S. Throwing down my cards dramatically I state "Really and truly I should shank you with a peeler knife but it'd be in better taste if I let you off, since you're new." remembering earlier's unnecessary threats conversation I inject good humour into the statement. A lock of hair falls into my face. I wipe it away._

_"I am in safety for the rest of the evening then." wittily returned by the master of deadpanning._

_Those mandibles look weird when he talks... I... I feel like touching one of them. Can't help myself. "Can I feel one of your mandibles?"_

_I fried his circuits. He blinks several times as his system reboots. "It is my assumption that this is out of innocent curiosity?"_

_A simple nod, like his earlier one, says all that I wish to convey._

_"Then I propose a deal of sorts."_

_I carry on looking at him, poker face in play, prompting him to continue._

_"You may touch one of my mandibles if I may touch a few strands of your hair."_

_I don't want no fingers in my hair. Then again, I wouldn't want someone feeling up my... Mouth? Jaw? Whatever the equivalent is. Suppose that's just fair-fucking-trade for yer. "I can take that deal." Muscles cord, air shifts and hair bounces as I stand up and walk round the cards to the elite. I take a knee in front of him. Even cross legged and hunched over he's still much larger than I am._

_"May I." he says, ever the gentleman._

_Inwardly, I'm hesitant; outwardly, I'm decisive "Go ahead, you have my permission." I gather up my hair before slinging it over one shoulder, it tickles my neck throughout the motion._

_Apex is still tentative when his fingers make contact. They gently tousled the bunch and rubbed a couple of threads together experimentally. I watched the brown scaled hand throughout its exploration. Several seconds passed before my eyes flicked to his. "What's the verdict."_

_"Soft and wavy. One could sow together cloth out of this." rings his sonorous voice._

_"So long as I don't wake up to find my hair as a floor mat we're ok."_

_"Indeed Taylor. Do you wish to claim your part of the deal?"_

_"Yeah."_

_He bends his head downwards and spreads out his mandibles a bit. I pick his bottom right one. My utter lack of tentativeness as my fingers make contact causes the appendage to flinch a little. Once it stills, I begin. The mandible's scales are much softer than the scuffed and calloused scales found on his hands. _

_Further inspection, and slight exploratory bending, reveals that his mandibles contain a structure similar to a spine. Thus allowing them great flexibility. I draw my hand away and Apex's eyes follow it, or they at least appear to follow it although I can't be sure: they're almost solid black._

_"Can you re-enact that flexing shit you pulled while eating baked beans."_

_His gaze flicks to me and he carries out the instruction. His mandibles flare and quiver before curving inwards unnaturally, the tips diving in first. They undulate repeatedly like transverse waves. "Awesome. I feel like a squid is about to eat my entire face right off my body."_

_"That sounds graphic. But what is this 'squid'?"_

_"It's a sea dwelling tentacled creature back on Earth with a-" _

_Everything's white. The white fades to black. The black dissipates revealing the world once again. We're both in the same positions as before. My eyes blink. A haunting image of a colossal squid is clear in my mind from internet pictures long unremembered._

_"Are you present Taylor?"_

_"Yeah. Must have phased into the memory zone. Anyway, it has a beak in place of your throat hole." I cringe at their disconcerting appearance and continue. "Some of the things are massive. Sea creatures like them have always seemed the most frightening of any creature. To me at least. They're so huge and so in their element where we are not that there's nothing you could do to protect yourself from one." My tone is thoughtful and contemplative._

_"Indeed."_

_Oh he is so on. I apply a posh British accent to my words, making me sound uptight and out of breath."Quite."_

_"I concur."_

_"I agree."_

_"Such do I."_

_"As I do."_

_"Indeed."_

_"Quite."_

_Pause..._

_School girl giggles escape from me while a hearty laugh breaks out from Apex, befitting of his size and tone of voice. Ahhh the enjoyment of idleness is much greater with someone trustworthy to share it with._

* * *

_The air is humid, there is no traffic in sight and, as is rare on Pyson Prime, the sun is shining brightly. Surrounding me is familiar cityscape. Surrounding me also, is an ever repeating blare from a car horn that is so ignored by my mind as to be equally as foreboding as silence._

_I'm lying on my left side in the middle of the road, clad in a baggy grey t-shirt and black tracksuit bottoms. Every part of my body that's touching the road surface is sparking with pain. An overdose of adrenaline has formed in my suprarenal gland, a heavy pulse has formed in my heart and a pit has begun forming in my stomach._

_I place my right palm on the floor, turning myself somewhat onto my front and pushing off from the ground using it and my other three limbs. A sequence of groans saturated with pain accompany the whole movement. It is subconsciously noted that much of the clothing on my left side is torn and much of the skin torn off, blood sticking in beds to the tissue beneath it._

_Noisy silence continues to permeate throughout the atmosphere._

_Turning around, the stomach pit deepening, I see a familiar car. One that is crushed against a building underneath a significantly larger lorry._

_My head turns first to the lorry, the driver is unconscious with his head lain against the horn._

_My head then turns to the car, mangled and damaged beyond repair. Surrounding it are thousands of shards of glass. Flowing around and over each shard is an ever extending pool of blood._

_The sight elicits tears that cascade down both sides of my face, glistening in the sunlight. Trails of wet are left in the wake of each tear, leading up to my eyes. Both of which are quivering from side to side as they scan over the scene._

* * *

And so Rachel lay, asleep on her bed, choking and spluttering as tears welled in her eyes.

* * *

Half an hour earlier...

Apex was lying down armourless on his own bed while assuming his thinking position: back against the floor, a single leg drawn up and both arms in situe behind his head.

_Who is the golden armoured sangheili. In my dream, or memory, I was bound up in a room, his features quivered before he punched me, he punched me and he departed without a word. Maybe he possessed a personal connection to me and felt betrayed by my "heretical" actions._

_I... I am definitely a soldier of some form, this armour fits too well for me not to be. It is theoretically possible the sangheili was my commander and was disappointed in his convicted soldier, gold is often attributed to high status after all._

_Hmmm. It is strange, someone wearing similar armour attacked me after I awoke in that same room. He doggedly pursued me until I managed to escape from the ship. Maybe it is the same sangheili as he who assaulted me. Food for further thought I should suppose._

However, Apex's "further thought" ran off on several tangents, leaving him pondering the matter of his abnormal house mate.

_The human is eccentric, a complicated enigma that poses difficulty in solving. Although... I suppose no harm shall be felt in trying. _The sangheili's logical mind opened up a large evidence file marked "R. Taylor" and perused its contents.

_She attempted to destroy a locket containing a man and a __woman that is similar in appearance to her_. One of Apex's thick, muscular arms raised above his head and delved into a pocket on his torso, retrieving said locket. His hand fiddled with it and his eyes attached to it as his thoughts continued.

_She tries to convince herself and me that she is a bad person, despite providing little valid evidence to support such a judgement._

_She responds emotionally and aggressively to questions on her life before the Event._

_Perhaps... Seeing and doing things one would rather forget is understandable when afflicted with such conditions as we are now; but something she wishes to forget clearly predates the Event, something she does not wish to share with anyone and that causes her pain to think about, as shown by her distress when the subject came up. Possibly something involving a sister, mother or some other relative, which would explain her reaction to the locket. All of this would also be exacerbated by the possession of perfect memory.  
_

_Hmph. I will have to more subtly question Taylor on-_

Apex's thoughts were interrupted as he heard violent sobbing from the room adjacent. His head turned to face the door. He listened to the continuation of sobs that followed over the next few seconds, Taylor was clearly the source.

Somewhat worried, and to a measure curious as well, Apex placed the locket back into its pocket and stood up. He suffered crippling head rush as he did so, almost falling straight back to the floor but thankfully remaining on his feet. Assured that he would not stumble again, the elite walked to where he knew the room's light was. Shielding his eyes with an arm, he turned it on.

The environment was basked in the pleasant lamp light once more, and Apex lowered his arm as soon as his eyes had sufficiently acclimatised to the new brightness level. His shadow walked in front of him to the door. He opened it, the shadow extending well into the juxtaposed room.

Beyond the sangheilian shaped obstruction of light was the subject of Apex's worry and curiosity. She was lying on her side, trench coat still donned, back facing him and hair lying in drapes over her head. Every few moments her body was rocked by a mournful exhalation, followed by several sharp inhalations.

Apex's eyes remained locked onto the woman for a long moment before he began to return to his room. He pulled the door closed slowly, the cone of light protruding into Rachel's room closing along with it until only a thin sliver remained. The passing of a few more moments preceded the final closing of both door and cone, which was accompanied by a quiet clicking of the handle mechanism.


End file.
